“One very much looks forward to Najida’s hospitality,” Geigi said, laboring up the bus steps. Then he paused to glance down at Bren. “And I will have somewhat to say to my nephew.”
“At your convenience, ” Bren agreed, and followed him up into relative security, behind darkened windows.
Were they not such close associates, two of Geigi’s people— Geigi had four Guild bodyguards and four Edi-born domestics bustling about—would have gone up first to look the situation overc but only one of his black-clad Guildsmen joined them. Aboard the bus only the fourth of Ilisidi’s men, the driver, and one of the Najida servants awaited them. Banichi and Jago were busy outside with the rest of the guard.
Such was the level of trust between them.
There were bangs and thumps from below as baggage went aboard. “Please take the seat opposite mine, nandi,” Bren said, and: “Nadi—” This to the sole remaining staffer. “Refreshment for our guest, now, if you would be so kind. —What will you have, Geigi-ji? Fruit juice, tea, perhaps spirits at this hour?”
Lord Geigi named his drink, a local fruit juice impossible to obtain on the station, a choice which Bren had guessed; and the young servant in charge turned and looked questioningly in Bren’s direction: the juice Geigi had chosen was alkaloid-laden, bad choice for a human. “Orange, if you please,” Bren added, for his own order. “Thank you, nadi.”
Lord Geigi, poised at his seat, meanwhile, looked admiringly about the new bus, floor to ceiling, and about the tinted windows and array of leather seats.
“Extraordinary. Very elegantly appointed, Bren-ji,” Geigi said. He sat down and ran his fingers over the gray leather. Extended his foot rest. “It smells new. You have prospered, Bren-ji. None more deservingly.”
Geigi was a man who appreciated his luxuries, wherever met.
“We are honored to have you as our first passenger. One regrets to say, the last bus, and Kajiminda’s portico, jointly came to grief. One does need to tell you so, with great regret.”
“Piffle. The matter of the portico—” Geigi waved a dismissive hand as Bren settled into the facing seat. “One is only glad you and your companion escaped unscathed, Bren-ji, and regrets to know your driver was not so fortunate.”
So Geigi had gotten most of the details, likely directly from Tabini.
“The driver is recovering well, however.”
“One rejoices to hear so.” A sigh. “One hopes my Kajiminda has not suffered too many bullet holes. Ah, for my porcelains— and no staff to protect them. Damn my nephew.”
“The house itself looked in fair order when I was inside, just before the incident, and one hopes the aiji’s forces have operated with some finesse since. Kajiminda is a district treasure, and one is certain they will attempt to respect that.”
“One wonders,” Geigi said with a second sigh, “one wonders whether I am still fit to maintain it in my trust, Bren-ji.”
Such a sad assessment, and no time to answer it, except to say: “One believes you are very fit, indeed, Geigi-ji. And the province so very desperately needs you right now.” There was a final, louder thump as the baggage door shut, the essential luggage evidently now taken below. Directly after that, Banichi and Jago came back aboard and the rest of Geigi’s bodyguard arrived behind them. Domestic staff arrived, too, filing to the rear, Geigi’s servants with them, four men in clothing that had everything to do with the efficiency and economy of the space station, and nothing at all with the natural fibers one would buy in Najida village. It was a little breath of the filtered, synthesized and highly organized culture of the space station that had arrived with Lord Geigi—and how these four cousins would be received by the rustic Edi of the coast remained to be seen.
Geigi and his household were all sea-changed. The Guildsmen attending Geigi would have grown much more reliant on intercoms and were accustomed to computers monitoring everything that moved. And all this staff spoke a patois of station-speak and Ragi, words drifting past that Bren understood, and his aishid certainly understood, but most of the staff at Najida would not.
Too, unhappy thought, it had been a long time since Geigi’s bodyguard or Geigi’s servants had had to deal with any threat of assassination.
Geigi’s household needed to adjust its attitudes and its reactions to local reality, and that lack of practice was worrisome. Geigi’s personal bodyguard would catch up, fast, once back in a Guild environment. Their trained attentiveness would reassert itself under the influence of top-level Guild staff like the paidhi-aiji’s and the aiji-dowager’s guard. But the personal attendants—
Therewas an accident waiting to happen, from kitchens to front door.
The driver revved the engine softly and the bus gently began to move, backing and turning past the sole building of the airstrip, before it headed back down the road.
“Anything Najida can do to assist,” Bren said for openers. “Indeed, Geigi-ji, anything the paidhi-aiji personally can do to assist in Kajiminda’s recovery, one will be honored to do. And one absolutely insists, for a start, to repair the porticoc”
“No such thing, Bren-ji! You were assaulted by a member of my household! Should you pay the damages, too?”
“One refuses to consider Baiji’s failings in any way connected to my old associate, and one charitably hopes the attack was not even by Baiji’s direct order. No, Geigi-ji, I blame my enemies and yours. So do please allow me to make that gesture of repairing the premises, to salve my memory of such a calamity.”
“Your generosity is extreme, but, yes, it is welcome,” Geigi said, “since you have local resources, and I have few. And one day, Bren-ji, I personally shall reciprocate such a favorc”
“One hopes in no event more severe than wind and weather!” Bren said with a little laugh—then soberly: “And in one sense, Geigi-ji, and to give him due credit, your nephew prepaid the debt. He was instrumental in rescuing the aiji’s sonc”
“For reasons one fears may be entirely dishonest,” Geigi interjected glumly. “One has heard about the incident. One very much doubts his intentions, under the circumstances.”
“Oh, I do give him at least credit for the attempt, Geigi-ji; and possibly for a little courage in doing so. One believes he even thought of making a run for Najida. But he was surely not alone on that boat. And it was possibly at some personal risk that he called me to tell me where the boy was. For that, for even the remote chance that was the case, I forgive him other things. But not all of them.” The bus joined the road, and now nosed toward home.
“I rather fear the aim was to draw you into proximity,” Geigi said. “I forgive him nothing.” A small silence. “I should have had no illusions about him. I should have made the trip down to the world long before now.”
“I fear you would have come to grief, Geigi-ji. One hates to say it, but the enemy had gotten their foothold in your house, even if they were not there in force. One is very glad you delayed a visit.”
“I have the most terrible fears what my nephew may have done to the estate over the last year. My collections. My antiques. The boy’s earliest request of me was for money, when the phones first worked again. When I heard my sister had died and learned hewas in charge, I was shocked. I gave him latitude, however. I drew money from Shejidan to supply him, fool I!”
“Likely some of it did go to the estate. Surely it did.”
“I trusted my staff was still in place, to report any untoward actions. And now I suspect they were justifiably out of sorts with me for leaving them. I had left them to bad management. They left without advising me. Kajiminda was deserted to its enemies with, as I gather, absolutely no warning.”